Break Till I Shatter
by lostsoul512
Summary: But eventually I had to compose myself. I was Jack Merridew, after all, and I needed to hold myself together.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: I just cant seem to stay away from Lord of the Flies. I hope you'll all enjoy this latest little story. Dedicated to Sheridan, my one true love, as ever. I do not own Lord of the Flies, only have a deep obsession with it. **

I wish I could say it all started that night, when his fingers first interlocked with mine. Hell, I wish I could say it started the first time his pale green eyes looked up at me from across the room. But the truth is that it all started five years back, when two young boys first smiled at each other.

Let me just say that I used to be totally normal. But that was before everything, before those godforsaken shores took hold of me and I abandoned all innocence. Before I came home to a family that didn't understand me and friends that didn't know me at all. Before a thousand medications and doctors. That was before.

That day, I was almost feeling normal, furiously trying to decipher a few algebra problems before the tone sounded, before the teacher strode into the room like every day. He would be carrying a coffee mug and muttering under his breath. I would be sitting in the back, fighting off the need to break free from the chains called life.

"You know," said a soft voice from somewhere beside me. "Your grades would probably be better if you werent always waiting until the last minute."

Turning my head to the side, I scowled at the tiny blonde boy sitting next to me. With bright eyes and a small grin, he was ever the depiction of innocence. Sometimes I wished I could hate him for that, but the fact of the matter was that I was stuck with him and I wouldn't have had it any other way.

"Shut up, Simon," I muttered anyway, scribbling away at the worksheet in front of me. "Just because _you're _perfect." And he was, really. perfect grades and a perfect life, with a perfect family who didn't force him to numb everything with little pills. Not to mention, he had the voice of an angel. When Simon was singing, I swear it was hard for me to breathe.

We'd almost lost Simon back then, that hell on earth. And there would've been no one to blame but us, but me. Only, at the last minute of hope his bruised and battered body had washed up upon the shore, and in the confines of my cave I'd just barely managed to nurse him back to health. I'd been protecting him ever since.

Or maybe, maybe he was the one protecting me. Keeping me safe from myself.

"I'm just saying," he mumbled.

Because I simply couldn't concentrate on math anymore, not with his gaze fixed so intently upon me, I raised my head to look around the room. "Where's Roger?" I asked, because the horrible friend that I was had just noticed that the seat to my right was empty.

As if on que, the black haired boy strode in through the door, head down, clutching his books and a cup of coffee like it was some sort of life support. "Overslept," he muttered as he took a seat beside me.

And so it went, everything so painfully normal. It might have been any day at all, seated between my two best friends, trying not to think too much. And I'd found happiness in this routine, in the midst of anti-depressants and nights spent dreaming wide awake.

It could have been any day, but it wasn't. It was that day, that precise day, when the world I knew dared to fall apart. Right before my eyes.

XXX

"Don't look now," Roger said lowly, "but Allison is coming." I felt my grip tighten around my styrofoam coffee cup, trying to keep my gaze focused on the table. The three of us were all perched around this little high rise in the lounge area of the dorms. It was the only place girls and boys could mingle outside the classroom. Usually my trio avoided it; the social scene wasn't really our thing. But I'd been aching for a cup of coffee, caffeine to sooth my headache.

_Shit,_ I thought, just as the girl appeared at my side. Two years younger, she had a tangled mess of dark brown ringlets and the greenest eyes I'd ever seen. "Hi, Jack," she piped.

"Hello, Allison," I said politely. Took a sip of my coffee to buy some time. I could feel Roger fighting off a smirk, Simon looking in every other direction. "How're you?"

The skinny girl brushed a strand of hair away from her face. "Lovely," she replied, like people honestly used words like that in casual conversation."I heard you got the solo on Friday night. I'll come hear you."

At this, Roger couldn't seem to contain his snort. He quickly covered it up as a cough when he felt my venomous stare upon him.

"Anyway," Allison droned on, always moving a mile per second. Ever since her arrival at St. Nathaniel's Prep School, she'd followed me like some sort of lost puppy. I used to love that kind of attention, but ever since the unspeakable incident, I preferred to float along beneath the radar. "I just came to tell you that m cousin is transferring here, and I think he might be in your dorm."

There were several things wrong with that statement. Predominantly the fact that Allison knew what dorm I was in to begin with. But I'd been in a single dorm the entire time I'd been at St. Nathaniel's. With all my issues, my nightmares that sent me screaming in the dark, having a roommate was simply out of the question. I had Simon and Roger across the hall, and that was enough.

Allison's words had sent both my friends into silence. I knew we were all thinking the same thing. I couldn't have a roommate. I just couldn't. Not when I spent half the nights crying, whispering words into the shadows to myself.

Simon was the one to break the silence. "We'll keep an eye on him," he assured the girl, ever so reassuring. I felt Allison steal one last glance at me before she darted away. Without her presence, it was a little easier to think.

"This is bullshit," I grumbled, to which they both nodded. Then we slipped back into silence, sipped our coffees and let the afternoon drift away.


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: Right, well here's the second installment in this lovely little tale. Also, Sheridan has informed me that I need to work a panda bear into this story, so be prepared for that. I do not own Lord of the Flies, or any characters, but I wouldn't mind hiding Jack in my closet….**

Fire danced against the crystalline sky, smoke tendrils twisting as a small boy stared out into the jungle. His red curls were matted, childish face smeared with dirt and dust and blood. A devilish smirk had taken over his lips. "Kill the beast," he whispered, gripping tightly at the stick he held, sharpened at both ends. "You're the beast, Jack. You have to die."

I awoke with a scream, jolting up into a sitting position. Panicked breaths and whimpered passed through my lungs. Within seconds, warm hands were upon me, holding me, brushing my hair back from my sweating face. "Jack," Roger spoke, a frantic edge to his voice. "Jack, calm down. Breathe."

Twisting my body around, I collapsed against his chest. At first, Roger tensed, but he relaxed soon, wrapped his arms around my slender body and crushed me to him. "Shh," he murmured, shaky fingers running through my hair. "It's over now."

We might have stayed like that for an eternity, lost in the pain that only we would understand, because only we had been there. Only we could still feel the scorching sun upon our bare skins, the fear and sorrow and malice. But eventually I had to compose myself. I was Jack Merridew, after all, and I needed to hold myself together.

Sitting up, removing myself from Roger's grasp, I wiped at my eyes with the back of my hand. Roger watched me uncertainly, fingers still lingering on my legs. "Where'd Simon go?" I asked, because, no, I didn't want to talk about myself. I was fine, thanks.

Roger looked about the room as if Simon might just pop out from some hiding place. "He went to bed a while ago," he told me. "I'd have gone too, but I was sort of trapped beneath you." I had to smile at that. Five years later, and Roger was still at my side through everything. And I loved him, of course, as much as I was capable of loving anything.

"Sorry," I said, though we both knew I wasn't sorry at all. Roger only shrugged, his fingertips moving in little circles over the denim of the jeans I was still wearing. I found a strange comfort in the simple motion, letting my eyes fall shut to block out all the pain of the memories that plagued me. In the silence, I could almost still hear the screams of a dozen little kids, running wild through a tangled forest of death.

"What time is it?" I asked after a while, just to break the quiet, just to clear my head. Roger shot a glance over at the clock resting on the bedside table.

"Just past eleven," he replied quietly. "I can go, if you want…"

I was shaking my head before he had even finished speaking. "Stay," I said softly, and for once it was more of a plea than a command. I didn't want to be alone, not tonight. And Roger was the only one who ever seemed to know how to keep me calmed down. I thought that, maybe, if he were to just lock his fingers with mine, I might be able to find some sleep. Know that I was safe, because he wouldn't ever let anything happen to me.

"Okay," Roger whispered, achingly soft and low. Unspoken words passed between us, promises to take care of each other, guard each other from the demons of the past. And also the realization that, as of tomorrow, I'd have a new roommate, and these fleeting moments of alone time might not happen. It was a thought that scared me, though I wasn't quite sure why. Roger was staring at me with those dark, intense eyes, brimmed with misery and nostalgia. A longing for days when things had been simple, when things had made sense. Before.

Because I couldn't simply sit there anymore, I stood and pulled my shirt up over my head. The skin below stretched over muscles, lined with a tracery of white scars, left behind from the island. A constant reminder of everything that had happened. Everything I'd done. I slipped out of my jeans until I was left only in my boxers, turned back to Roger with a forced, wistful smile.

"Move over," I demanded playfully. "You're taking up the whole damn bed."

Roger rolled his eyes dramatically, sliding over so I had room to ease into the bed next to him. When our flesh brushed, I felt a strange sort of twisting in the pit of my stomach, one I couldn't explain and very much wanted to ignore. This was _Roger_, after all, the boy I'd been to hell and back with. Literally. I let myself settle into the pillows, head pressed up against his shoulder. With a slightly uneven breath, Roger reached down to pull the covers up over my body.

"Just like old times," I murmured groggily, for already the exhaustion was taking over me. I thought back to stormy nights curled up against his side in the depths of my cave at Castle Rock. Everyone had always thought I was so damn strong, so damn brave. No one knew that at night it was Roger who helped me through. When the darkness set it, it was Roger taking care of me.

I couldn't be quite sure, because I was drifting off into that place just between reality and dreams, where old haunts could come back to destroy, but I thought I felt Roger press his lips softly to my forehead.

XXX

In the morning, my eyelids fluttered open to blindingly bright lights. With a groan, I yanked the covers up over my head. "Roger," I grumbled. "Why the _hell_ are the shades open?" It was Saturday, dammit, and I wanted to sleep for as long as I possibly could.

I was met with silence. Weak with that feeling of just waking up, I turned over to feel the bed beside me, but it was empty. A frown furrowing my brow, I threw back the covers and looked about the room. Sunlight filtered in from the window, illuminating the simple room, the bed and dresser and me clutching covers like they offered some sort of protection. Roger was gone.

But I wasn't alone. With wide, frenzied eyes, I took in the figure looming by the closet, back turned to me as he shoved his clothes onto the shelves there. A lean figure and wispy blonde hair was all I could gather of him. And I knew, I just knew, that he was my roommate, and I had no intention of being friendly with him. Maybe I could scare him off, and he'd demand a new room, and I could carry on with my lonely existence alone.

"Hey," I growled, mustering up all the fierceness that coursed through my veins. With a startled gasp, the boy spun around towards me. I was met with a angled face, and these pale green eyes that were just so damn unforgettable.

"Shit," I choked, or maybe only thought I did, because I wasn't sure any sound actually made it out of my lips. My heart was thudding away within my chest, a stabbing pain that made it impossible to breath. With every blink, I returned to that place, the heat of fire breathing down my neck.

"H-hey," he replied in a shaky tone. His gaze was fixed upon my face, frantically taking in every detail. "I'm-"

"I know who you are," I spat. "How could I _ever_ forget you, Ralph?"


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: I'm kind of sad I haven't gotten any reviews on this one yet, but I press on anyway. I write for me, see, and having others share in my excitement is just an added plus. I don't own Lord of the Flies, but if I did it would be a musical. **

For a long time Ralph just stood there, watching me, waiting. Every fiber of his being was on edge, like all of his fears and nightmares had crawled right out of his head and come to life before his very eyes. Oh, those eyes, so pale and full of hidden things. I longed to tear him apart, know his every secret. His every regret.

And then he spoke, low and soft. "Jack?" My name fell from his lips in a symphony of pain. It had never sounded quite as weak as it did when he said it. And I could only bring myself to nod, once, hard. A thousand emotions played out across his face, but I didn't have time to catch them all.

"No." Ralph's tone was final, harsh. "No, this cant be happening. This isn't real." I swore he actually squeezed his eyes shut like he could make me go away if he only tried hard enough.

Throwing back the covers to reveal my nearly naked body, I climbed out of bed and reached for the crumpled jeans on the floor. I needed to get some caffeine in me, needed to find Roger, needed to get the _hell_ away from the boy who had haunted me for the last five years. Ralph adverted his eyes as I pulled on my pants, crossed the room to yank a shirt out from the dresser drawer.

"It's real, Ralph," I called out over my shoulder. Trying to mask my own building anxiety. "I guess we just couldn't stay away from each other." And maybe that was the truth. Maybe there was something bigger going on here. Because I hated him for what he had done to me, and I hated myself for what I had done to him, and maybe we'd been brought together once again to try and right all the wrongs that had happened. Or maybe this was all some twisted dream, and I'd wake up back in Roger's arms, the only place I felt safe.

"You…you tried to kill me."

Those words got me to turn around. Ralph seemed to be shaking all over. With fear, perhaps, or something even deeper than that. For a solid minute we were motionless, holding each other's gaze. Light green to vibrant blue. Only his calm serenity that had always seemed so strong was missing now, and all my fires had long since died out.

"And you killed Simon," he went on, each word stabbing straight to the place where my soul might have been, if only I hadn't lost it so long ago. "And Piggy-"

"I didn't kill Piggy," I cut him off. "And don't you dare think you can come here and try to bring back old memories." I took a step towards him, saw the way he flinched just a little. He was still scared of me.

"Jack," he whispered, but I wasn't hearing it, not anymore. Five years, and the visions were just barely starting to face away. How dare he show up here, my sanctuary, and try to tear apart the half-life I'd made for myself?

"Just leave me alone," I snapped, and with that I headed to the door, and slammed it shut on the way out.

XXX

A terrible coughing noise escaped Roger's throat as the sip of coffee he'd just taken came dribbling out from his lips. "You're kidding me."

Clutching my own cup tightly, I brought it to my lips to feel the hot liquid scorching at the back of my throat. There was a slight relief in the pain, but it was fleeting. "Dead serious."

Roger shook his head slowly; I could tell he didn't even know what to say to me. Simon was silent as well, his eyes flickering all about the room, as if maybe Ralph might suddenly emerge at any minute. I studied him for a moment or two, remembering the way he'd followed Ralph's every move on that godforsaken island. Until I'd saved his life, Simon had betrayed me to the other side.

The black haired boy reached out to lightly touch the back of my hand. I'd never been one for intimate touches, but with Roger I welcomed it. Everything he was soothed me. And maybe that connection should have scared me, because letting people in meant being vulnerable. But sometimes, I thought, we had to be willing to risk getting hurt in order to feel anything at all.

"It's going to be okay, Jack," Roger murmured quietly. "I cant promise you much, but I can promise you that."


	4. Chapter 4

A/N: Ahh! Thanks so much to landbeyondnoother and MorphineSun for their lovely reviews! This has made me very happy indeed. So happy, in fact, I decided to throw a lil romantic twist into the story! Mwahahah. Uhmm, I don't own Lord of the Flies, but when Sheridan comes over to my house next week I plan to make her pork for dinner. Let's be honest here, I was Jack in another life. But anyway!

At a place like St. Nathaniel's, it was hard to have a good time on a Saturday night. Being trapped in the school made it impossible to party like normal people our age, and so mostly we resorted to sitting around our rooms, pretending our lives were so much more adventurous than they were. But then again, I thought I might have had my fill of adventure in this life.

I hadnt seen Ralph again since I'd stormed out of our room that morning. For all I cared, he could slip in the shower and die, because he was nothing but old haunts and ghosts to me now. It was just past nine, and I found myself strew out across the floor in Simon and Roger's room, cradling a half-empty bottle of vodka. Roger had hidden it away in the back of his closet, and now we only pulled it out for special occasions. I didn't know if this counted as special, exactly, but it was definitely an occasion, so for the greater part of the past two hours I'd been sipping at the bottle and bitching to my two best friends. Almost like a normal teenager.

"I really wouldn't worry about him," Simon said lightly from where he was perched on his bed. Back pressed to the headrest, he was staring up at the ceiling like maybe it contained all the answers to life's mysteries. Roger was sitting on the floor near me, knees pulled up to his chest. "I mean, I'm sure Ralph just wants to forget everything too."

I scoffed at that, rolling over and propping my chin up in my elbows. A few stray strands of red curly hair fell in front of my eyes, but I brushed them away with a quick flick of my wrist. "Please," I retorted. "Don't you think it's odd that he's suddenly just appeared here, in the middle of the semester?"

Simon had nothing to say to that. I glanced over at Roger, whose own gray eyes were intently fixed on the place where his hands were folded in his lap. "I guess," he mumbled. I got the feeling they were both really sick of hearing about Ralph. But what did they expect? This was my sworn enemy, my every nightmare conjured right before my eyes.

"He thinks you're dead," I said suddenly, remembering how Ralph had accused me of killing Simon. In all the emotions of seeing him again, it hadnt even registered. Simon turned to look at me, brows knit together. I nodded quickly. "He accused me of killing you. On the island. He thought you died there."

For a long while Simon sat in silence. Then, slowly, he eased himself off the bed and started towards the door. "Where the hell are you going?" I demanded, sitting up much too quickly. It caused my head to spin a little, my vision to go a little fuzzy.

Simon looked back at me over his shoulder. "I'm going to see Ralph," he replied, like it was the most obviously thing in the world.

I stared on at him, appalled. "Like hell you are!"

Simon spun around to face me full on. "Do not condescend me, Jack Merridew. Whether you want to admit it or not, that boy has been suffering just as much as we have. He has a right to know that I'm still alive. I will not allow him to believe I'm dead."

The outright hostility in his voice silenced me quickly. "Okay," I murmured, and Simon slammed the door on his way out.

An overwhelming quiet fell over us then. I turned back to Roger, who was doing his best to appear distracted. Crawling over to my best friend, I plopped down beside him and dropped my head right into his lap. He tensed up a little with shock, but soon had relaxed beneath me. "Why is this happening to me?" I whined.

Roger looked down at me and smiled, just slightly. With one of his hands he began to gently play with my hair, fingertips trembling as he drew them down my jawbone. "You worry too much," he replied lazily. "Close your eyes. I'll sing you a lullaby."

In spite of myself I grinned at him. "I'm the one who should be singing to you, Roger," I teased. "I'm the one who can sing C sharp."

The black haired boy let out a hollow laugh. "Then you're the one who never hit puberty."

I stuck my tongue at him playfully, sitting up. But Roger kept a tight grip on my shoulder, our faces hovering only inches apart. "Jack," he said slowly, quietly. "You know that I'd do anything for you, right?"

I nodded, hesitantly. Unsure where this might be going. Roger's gaze flickered away for a moment before trailing back to my own. "Then," he paused, "can you do something for me?"

I parted my lips to reply, but before I could Roger pressed his own against them. My eyes went wide in shock, but quickly fell closed as I let my body melt into his. Roger fisted his hands in my hair, holding me in place as he worked his mouth against my own. The kiss was everything slow and soft, yet edged with a rough passion.

It ended much too soon, and we were left panting for breaths. A moment of silence hung about us, and then Roger broke into a smile, and I had no choice but to do the same.

"Oh, Jack. I've wanted to do that since we were twelve years old," he said, leaning in to touch his lips to my forehead. I didn't know exactly what I was supposed to be feeling, or thinking, but just then I didn't care. I slid my arms around Roger's neck, hugged him to me, breathed him in. And it would have been perfect.

If the door hadnt opened to reveal Simon, wide-eyed and innocent, who was being followed by a very confused Ralph.


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N: Hiya! I hope everyone is having a lovely February, and that this chapter will be to everyone's liking. Also, just to warn you, I might have a special little treat for everyone on Valentine's day… (since we all know I'll be spending it alone). Anyway, here goes nothing. Oh, and I don't own Lord of the Flies, or the OAR song for which this story is named. **

Simon closed the door with all the poise in the world. I was still clinging to Roger, and I was thinking back to this one night on the island. Probably the only good memory I had from all those endless months. It was right after we'd all thought Simon was dead, before his angelic body had washed up on the shore near Castle Rock. I'd been sitting alone and staring out at the ocean, stretching on into eternity. And Roger had appeared, silent as ever, and he'd pulled me into his lap. Neither of us had spoken, but everything had felt still and peaceful.

Now, I slid away from Roger, eyes fixed on Simon as I distanced myself from my best friend. "Hey," I greeted, too quickly, trying to keep any anxiety out of my tone.

Simon wasn't buying it. A tiny smirk crept over his lips, that gaze flickering between Roger and I. Behind him, Ralph only stared down at the ground. "Are we interrupting something?" Simon teased, to which my face turned a shade of red that could have challenged my hair.

"Of course not," Roger muttered, looking down, hiding behind his sheath of black hair. "However, you can kindly ask your follower to leave."

At this, Ralph glanced up, and for a split second our eyes locked. Fire danced through my gaze, just as fire had scorched the island, my island. I'm sorry," he said softly, tearing his gaze from my own. "I'm just..I mean, I-"

"We don't care, Ralph," Roger sneered, pushing himself to his feet. He shot a glance at me before starting towards the door. "This is our territory, and I'm not about to let you ruin what we've created for ourselves." With that, he shouldered past them, shoving Ralph just a little as he did, and then I was left to think to myself that things never changed, not really.

Simon slammed the door shut with a huff, taking a step towards me. I kept my expression blank, reached for the bottle of vodka and absently took a swig. The fiery liquid burned all the way down, burned, because it would always return to the fire. Only now there was no one there to rescue me.

"I don't understand you," Simon scowled at me. I hated this side of him, hated it.

Bottle still in hand, I staggered to my feet. "I just want to forget, Simon." Pointing an accusing finger at Ralph I added, "and I'll never do that with him around."

I had every intention of leaving them, going off to find Roger, or maybe just hole up somewhere and drink myself to death. But Simon rushed to put a hand on my shoulder, stopping me where I stood. "Jack," he said evenly, "I'm begging you. Just talk to Ralph. I think…I think it'll help you."

Clutching the vodka until my knuckles turned white, I let out a slow hiss of a sigh. I'd never been one to swallow my pride. Never. But this was Simon, and the truth of it was I had almost let him die once, and I owed him so much more than I could ever give. "Alright," I said at last, the word bitter on my tongue. I was staring right at Ralph, through him, as I said it. The blonde looked up at me, all of his fear strewn across his face. "Alright."

And for the first time since his arrival, Ralph smiled. I couldn't bring myself to do the same.

"Simon," I commanded, some of my usual authority seeping into my voice. "Please. Go find Roger. You know how he gets when he's upset." His bright eyes said more than his mouth ever would. Glancing between Ralph and I once more, he patted me on the shoulder before slipping out the door.

And so I turned to Ralph, now that we were alone. His arms were crossed and he kept shifting his weight from one foot to the other. Without much thought, I held out the bottle to him. Ralph shook his head.

"Suit yourself," I shrugged.

"Jack-" Ralph started, but I cut him off.

"Look," I said pointedly. "I've got a raging headache and I'm probably a lot drunker than I think I am. What do you want from me?"

Ralph bit down lightly on his bottom lip. "On second thought, let me have that bottle." Despite my usual demeanor, I couldn't help my grin a little as he took it from my grip. With shaking hands he brought it to his lips. I watched intently as he gulped at the liquid. "I guess," he said, swallowing hard, "that I just need to know I'm not alone. Like I'm not the only one who feels like this. I need to know I'm not alone."

I nodded slowly, because maybe I really did understand. I didn't want to be alone either. Sure, I put up this wall. Wore this mask. But only because I was afraid.

"You're not alone, okay?" I told him. "No one's ever really alone."

Ralph's eyes were filled with this quiet desperation. "You don't get it, Jack. You've got Simon and Roger. I have nothing. Not even my family wants me anymore."

For once, I had nothing to say. I thought Ralph's eyes might have been brimming with tears, and I knew for sure I couldn't handle seeing him cry. "C'mon, Ralph. It's over now. We have to try and let it go. The island cant hurt us anymore."

The fair haired boy shook his head. "It's never over, Jack. Not for me."


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N: Thanks to all those who have taken time to review this, favorite it, or even look at it without my knowledge. You guys give me a reason to keep on writing, and also slacking in classes like Government. Honestly, LotF teaches plenty about Government anyway. Insert usual disclaimer **_**here**_**. **

Unlike most, normal people, Mondays were probably my favorite day of the week. As soon as the tone sounded to release us from class, I scooped up my books and scurried out the door. I'd barely gone ten steps when Simon fell beside me, eyes drooped like he'd just been sleeping.

"Hey," he greeted cheerfully, falling into step beside me. "How's your day been?"

I turned a corner sharply, Simon never missing a step. "Fine," I replied, but didn't give any details. Because I'd woken up to Ralph in my usually empty room. And he'd offered me this small little smile, and no matter how I tried to convince myself I hated him, I just couldn't.

Instead I tried to focus on my destination, the choir room. For the next three hours, the world would disappear, and all the pain held in my heart would vanish. It wouldn't matter that Ralph was back, or that Roger had fucking _kissed_ me, or that-

"Jack!"

I grit my teeth at the sound of the familiar voice reaching my ears. I had every intention of walking right on without stopping, only suddenly there was a figure standing directly in my way. "Hi, Jack," Allison squeaked, tugging nervously at the hem of the skirt she wore.

"Allison," I greeted coolly. "What brings you to the music hall?"

Her cheeks started to turn just the slightest shade of pink. "I, uh, knew you had choir practice," she said, all nervous and breathless. I should have been amused, maybe even flattered. Instead I was only annoyed. "I just wanted to say hello, I guess." Allison's voice had gone flat at my unwavering expression. Beside me, Simon stood motionless, except for those eyes, which travelled back and forth between us.

"Go on in," I commanded of him. Simon nodded a little before disappearing into the room. Once we were alone, I fixed my gaze on the slender brunette before me, bouncing on the balls of her feet. She looked so hopeful, and I despised her for that.

"Allison," I spoke in a very neutral voice. "You need to stop thinking there'll be something between us."

I watched as a dozen emotions played out over her porcelain face. Hurt, definitely, and anger. Underlying desire masked, suffocated by hatred. It was a tangle of feelings I was almost familiar with. Except I couldn't quite explain why.

"You know, Jack," she said at last, her voice quivering as my name fell from her lips. "One of these days you're going to wake up and realize you're all alone."

I was in no mood to be insulted, least of all by a fifteen year old emotional wreck. I was already late for choir, one of the few things I looked forward to. "I think I much prefer to be alone," I replied lightly. Almost as an afterthought, I added, "People cant hurt you if you don't let them in."

Allison acted as if she hadn't even heard me at all. "Honestly, I don't know why Ralph is always going on about you." It took me a moment to remember that she was, in fact, Ralph's cousin, but by then she'd tossed her hair back over her shoulder and stormed away. I could still hear her heels clicking down the corridor as I turned towards the door behind me.

So, Ralph was talking about me? Well. I didn't much want to think about that, so I ripped open the door and stepped into my sanctuary.

XXX

"Check," Roger muttered, sliding a black piece across the board. We were slumped across the floor of his room, separated only by the board and this distance I couldn't seem to shake. Every time he would glance up at me from under those dark lashes, a shiver would rush through my body. More than once I caught myself wishing that Simon might come in the door, and then I hated myself, because Roger was my best friend in the whole damned world.

My mind kept straying back to what Allison had said, about Ralph always going on about me. What did she mean, exactly? What had my old rival been saying? How much did she know? All these questions, but no answers to satisfy me. I was left a victim to the endless waves of thoughts, spiraling round and round in my head.

"Jack," Roger spoke softly, drawing me out of myself. I looked at him for the first time in what felt like ages, really looked until I could see that broken boy still hiding inside of him. "Your move."

I eyed up the board, looking for ways to escape the fate of the check. In the end I slid my queen a few spaces over, in front of my king. Forever doomed to die for her lover.


	7. Chapter 7

A/N: I am so sorry about the exceedingly prolonged delay in my updating this story. Honestly things have been so intense in my real life, and I've been off doing things like living a double life and conquering the world in seven inch stilettos on top of everything else. I solemnly swear I will try to be more...devoted to this tangled web I've spun for our lovely boys. I do not own Lord of the Flies, tragically.

It was late when I returned to my own room, silent as I crept across the hall. Roger and I had spent hours sprawled across his floor, trying desperately to stay quiet as Simon attempted sleep. Every now and then, the black haired boy would lightly trail his fingertips over me, caressing my forearm or maybe my thigh. When I stood to leave, Roger stumbled to his own feet, murmured a goodnight. And I smiled just so, and let him envelope me in his arms, his lips brushing my cheek.

Now, outside my own dorm, my fingers hovered above the doorknob as a shiver moved down my spine. Roger had always been my best friend, my partner in crime. He'd followed my every move, even back on the island. And I couldn't deny the thrill I felt every time his skin brushed my own.

Shaking my head, I eased open the door and submerged myself in the darkness of the room. I was tired and it was late and I needed to get some sleep before I went batty. I closed the door with a soft click and carefully crossed the pitch-black room.

"You're in late."

I jumped at the sudden words, nearly stumbling where I stood. There was a moment of silence and then the bedside light came on, illuminating the room with a soft glow. Ralph was in his bed, leaning against the headboard. His blonde hair was falling into his face just so, and he was golden and perfect and for that I would always hate him.

Ralph brushed his hair away from his eyes. "You're still up," I observed, trying my best to keep my voice steady. But it was shaking as I watched him there.

"I don't sleep," he told me. He was shirtless, I realized, but the covers were pulled up to his waist. In the half light from the lamp I could just make out this jagged mark upon his chest. Noticing my staring, Ralph snatched the blankets up further. And I could see it all so clearly, the waves crashing in on Castle Rock, Ralph staring in disbelief as Piggy fell to his death. I could feel the adrenaline I had felt then, frenzied screaming as I hurled my spear straight at him, drawing blood.

"Simon was in here earlier," he said with a hint of desperation, like he wanted nothing more than to distract me from the surge of memories. "I cant believe he's still alive." The look in his eyes was dark, shadowed.

"Yeah, crazy," I muttered, but really I was still on the island, still chasing him, calculating. Because he was my prey; he would always be my prey, and I had him trapped. I must have had some pretty feral look in my vivid blue eyes, because Ralph was looking sort of scared. "I mean, I couldn't just let him die," I added, blinking hard to clear the hunter's hunger away.

Ralph frowned, like he couldn't quite believe the words I'd just spoken. As if he just refused to accept that I was no less human than him.

"I'm going to get some sleep," I told him abruptly, tearing my gaze from his own and hurrying across the room to my bed. I waited until Ralph took the hint and flicked off the light before yanking my shirt up over my head, before easing my pants down to the floor. There was a moment of quiet while I crawled into bed and slid the sheets over me. Then, very softly, I said, "I'm sorry about your scar."

Ralph didn't reply for a while, and I almost wondered if he had fallen asleep. But then his voice cut through the darkness, just loud enough for me to hear. "You've changed, Jack."

I said nothing, just let his words sink into the air around us. And when my eyes fell shut, it was with a smile upon my face.

XXX

"Jack, he has to die!"

I watched frantically as Roger held Ralph down against the ground, straddling the blonde boy. From where I stood, the whole jungle behind me, I could see everything. The beach and the ocean beyond that, and that terror in Ralph's eyes. Terror, because of me. Because I had become a monster, a beast, and he was searching inside for any remains of that boy who had once smiled at him so unsurely.

I was faltering for reasons even I didn't know. Roger was holding his spear tightly, the one sharpened at both ends. And Ralph was squirming, trying to get away, but he was trapped. The prey caught in the very grasp of the predator. "Oh, please, Jack," Roger purred. "Let me kill him!"

When I opened my mouth, no sound came out, except for maybe a terrified little shriek as Roger brought his spear down to collide with Ralph's chest. Blood spattered everywhere, coating the dark haired boy as his maniacal laughter echoed around us. And then I was screaming, screaming Ralph's name at the top of my lungs. Only he couldn't hear me, not anymore.

Suddenly hands were upon me, shaking me, and my eyes snapped open from the nightmare. Ralph's body hovered just above my own, his grip tight upon my shoulders. "Jack! Jack, wake up!"

I pushed him away, much rougher than I meant to, sitting up in my bed. The lights were on, and instantly my hands flew up to cover my eyes. "Oh, god," I moaned.

Ralph, panting slightly, perched himself on the edge of my bed. I couldn't see the expression in his eyes, but I could feel the gaze lingering upon me. "You were having a nightmare," he stated simply. Calmly. And I started to catch my breath, at least a little. "Are you okay?"

I pulled my hands away from my eyes, nodding numbly. His face was contorted into a painful wince, like it had been positively unbearable for him to see me like that. I couldn't help the blush that crept into my cheeks. "I'm fine," I said, or maybe only thought I did. Anyway, we both knew it was a lie.

Ralph let out this delicate little sigh, turning his head so that I couldn't see his face. "You…you were having a dream about me, weren't you?" He asked softly. I stared at him long and hard, the angle of his jaw, the flesh that pulsated at his neck. He was beautiful, really, all blonde hair and-

Wait.

No.

This was Ralph I was looking at here, Ralph who I had hated all my life even if I'd never really understood why. Ralph, who had ruined everything and caused me years of sleepless nights. Ralph, whose voice echoed in my head when the world around me was too quiet.

And it came to me then, that sudden, painful realization. I had been obsessed with him since the moment I met him. Pleasing him, befriending him, hating him, killing him, forgetting him. Either way it had always been about him, for five damn years. Always Ralph in the back of my head.

"I was not," I said half-heartedly, another lie neither of us really believed. Ralph glanced over at me from the corner of his eye, grinning slightly.

"Then why'd you keep screaming my name?" He asked. I thought I detected a teasing edge to the words. To that I said nothing, for there was nothing to say. Ralph sighed again, realizing that maybe it was too late and I was too upset and he probably was too. Because there was never any going back, not really, not for us. We would always be on that island, even if it was only in our heads.


	8. Chapter 8

**A/N: Awwh, no reviews. I guess this story really isn't my best work; I'm fully aware of that. I'll have to find a way to wrap it up soon, then. Thanks to everyone and anyone who's been reading without my knowledge. You mean the world to me. I blame my current state of nostalgia for my horrid writing. Do not own Lord of the Flies, but today my English teacher tried to kidnap my book and stage an intervention against my addiction. **

The thing about insomnia is that it creates such a deep appreciation for sleep. It's so fleeting, that when it does come, all one can possibly do it cling to it.

Which was what I was doing, forcing out the world as morning descended upon us, when I heard the easy knock upon my door. "Jack," the familiar voice called my name out. I could just imagine Roger standing on the other side of the door, hip jutted out, arms probably crossed in impatience and annoyance.

I opened my eyes just enough to see the sunlight through the cracks in the curtains. Consciousness began to creep into me, bringing a yawn up from somewhere within me. "Jack, seriously," Roger spoke again, harsher this time. with a slight groan, I rolled over in my bed.

And almost had a heart attack. For there, curled up in my bed beside me, was the silently sleeping form of Ralph. My breathing caught in my throat, heart fluttering in my chest at the mere closeness. I could practically feel his warm breath teasing my neck. He must have fallen asleep after my nightmare, I thought, but by then I was sliding out of the bed and scrambling for some pants.

In all my frantic movements, my body slammed into the wall as I moved to open the door. Turning the handle, I pulled it back just enough to see Roger, lingering anxiously in the hall. "H-Hey," I greeted, trying my hardest to stop the trembling in my voice. The nervousness, that detestable weakness.

Roger narrowed his lifeless gray eyes just so, running them over my half-undressed body. "Hello," he purred, though it was edged with suspicious undertones. "I thought we might get breakfast."

From within my room, Ralph gave a tiny moan in his sleep, rolling over onto my pillow. In spite of myself, I glanced over my shoulder at the blonde before turning back to Roger. "Alright," I agreed. "I'll get dressed and be right out." Before he could reply I tried to shut the door on him, but Roger was quick. He slid his foot into the doorframe, blocking my escape.

"Let me in," he said lowly, and this time his voice was all edge. Fire flashed, for but a moment, in that empty gaze.

All my instincts and defenses flared up at the demanding tone of voice. Because I was Jack Merridew, and no one told me what to do. No one. "Why should I?" I snapped.

"Because," Roger said simply, "you're hiding something from me."

Being Jack Merridew, I might have found a way out of it. I might have constructed a clever lie or simply reminded him that I was in control here. Might have, if not for the soft call of my name from within the room. Ralph had sat up in my bed, the covers falling back just so, his blonde hair all in disarray around his face. And it distracted me just enough for Roger to push the door open, and then it all went to hell from there.

I grabbed roughly at Roger's shoulder as my best friend strode in through the door, his eyes falling directly on Ralph, where he lay in my bed.

"What the…" Roger started, but the words were lost before they could come. Ralph's green eyes were wide in horror, and then Roger turned on me with all the fury in the world.

"Roger," I stammered. "Believe me. Nothing happened. This is not what it looks like."

He wasn't hearing any of it. "How could you?" He cried. Instead of the usual malice there was something new entirely, something unexpected. Pain. Hurt.

Envy.

"What about us, Jack? What about everything between us?" He was getting hysterical now, and I couldn't help but glance back at Ralph. The room was spinning around us. I just wanted, needed to make him understand. I was scared and alone and haunted by a thousand memories, and Ralph had been there to get me through the night. And that was all.

But there had been that dream, my screams as Roger had driven his spear through Ralph's heart.

"Don't you get it?" Roger said suddenly, ripping me from my tangled thoughts. He was shaking where he stood, hands balled into fists at his sides. "Or are you too arrogant and self-centered to realize I am madly in love with you?"

For a few, frozen seconds, I could only stare at him as his words hung in the air around us. Our heavy breaths bounced off the walls, echoed in the silence. "Roger," I said quietly, but wasn't sure what to say next, I just couldn't stand the look in his eyes anymore, all the sorrow kept there, breaking my heart. Because of course I loved Roger. But I had this deep obsession with all that Ralph was. And I didn't know what to do, and that terrified me. but in that moment, it was Ralph my eyes were locked with, and something in his gentle expression told me it would all be okay.

Roger shouldered past me without another word and disappeared out the door, leaving Ralph and I alone. "Well," I said, when the quiet was no longer bearable, "good morning to you."

The blonde laughed, but it quickly died away. "I'm sorry-" he began, but I cut him off instantly.

"Don't," I murmured. "You of all people have nothing to be sorry for." A small smile of appreciation slid over his lips. With a sigh I closed the door and sauntered back to where Ralph sat, dropping down beside him onto my bed. So, my best friend was in love with me and my arch enemy had become my ally.

There was suddenly a gentle hand upon my shoulder, and when I looked over, Ralph was trying to smile at me. "we'll get through this," he told me, a promise that lingered in my head. _We_. Because, like it or not, it would always be Ralph and I, and there was nothing I could do to change it.

**A/N: I'd just like to note that my lecture in History of Russia and Asia was terribly boring. Reviews are appreciated more than you'll ever know. Probably going to draw a conclusion in the next few chapters, so if there's anything you'd like to see, better warn me now. The ever-loving Sheridan has just provided me a new idea for my next story. **


	9. Chapter 9

**A/N: Shoutout to everyone who has taken time to review this; you all are the best! Also, I hope you'll all check out my one-shot, Darkest. Anyway, enough self promotion! Today I have a lovely surprise. I'll be writing the next chapter of Break Till I Shatter from Roger's POV. Ooh, how exciting. I don't own Lord of the Flies, etc. But has anyone else noticed how often Ralph stands on his head? **

Roger

Black. That was all I saw. Black, and perhaps some red if I were to press the heels of my hands against my eyes. I was slumped down upon my bed, in my dorm, with a roaring headache that clawed at every part of my mind.

"…fucking stupid…" I muttered under my breath, fingers moving to lightly work at my temples. How could this have happened? Only a few days earlier, Jack had been in _my_ lap, kissing _me. _and now? I couldn't even bring myself to think of it. I'd known Jack for as long as I could remember, and he'd always been the sort to put himself above all others. But I'd never thought that he would ever make me feel so pathetically weak.

As though it were timed, the door swung open. I groaned at the sound of the footsteps shuffling across the floor. Oh, God, I needed a drink. Or something. Because in my head it was only those damned blue eyes. "Hullo, Roger," Simon greeted me with such ease, completely unaware as ever. Through my fingers I scowled at him, wishing I might find such happiness in the simplicity of life. I caught myself wonder if, maybe, almost dying was the reason he enjoyed living so. If maybe we couldn't ever fully appreciate life until we understood what it felt like to nearly lose it.

At the sight of my expression, Simon frowned, hurrying over to plop down beside me. "W-What's the matter?" He asked shyly, concern dripping in each word. I let my hands fall away from my face and sighed, and when I looked to him there was some sadness in my gray eyes I just couldn't keep out.

"I just don't get it," I mumbled lowly. Clasped my hands in my lap, digging nailed into my palms until they were marked with these little half-circles. The younger boy actually dared to reach out and place a hand upon my forearm, fingers sliding down to rest on the inside of my wrist. Normally I would have shaken him off, just then I found a sense of comfort in the touch.

"I don't understand," I repeated, loathing myself for how positively broken I sounded. "What is it about Ralph that Jack desires so much?"

Simon lowered his gaze, like maybe he was thinking up a response or something. And he just kept moving his fingers in little circles over the delicate skin of my arm, the veins standing out against pale flesh. "Maybe," Simon spoke after a few moments. "Maybe he likes the idea of control."

With a desperation I hated to admit, I collapsed back onto the bed so that I was laying and Simon was peering down at me. "But Jack knows I would do anything for him," I countered, letting my eyes fall shut. Jack had to know; he just had to. I'd been following his every move for years.

"I know," Simon sighed, knowing at his bottom lip a little. "But, Roger, I don't mean he wants to be in control of others. I mean he wants to be in control of himself."

My brows furrowed together a little as I let those words sink in, pondered them a little. But in the end it was all too much and my head was pounding, so I only sat up and rubbed at my eyes. "Come on, Simon," I said. "Let's go get some food."

Simon nodded as I rose to my feet, following suit. As we left the room in utter silence, I slammed the door a bit harder than needed. Wondered if Jack could hear the echoing of the noise from within his own room, and if to him it sounded like a bullet through the heart.

XXX

Simon and I made our way to the student lounge area, where we took up residence at our usual table. I could only bring myself to nibble at the bagel Simon had brought me, but with every swallow I felt as though I might choke. Anger reverberated through my body, anger at Jack for making me feel so _heartbroken_, and at Ralph for thinking he could just stroll back into our lives.

"We should have killed him when we had the chance," I growled, glancing up at Simon. He only looked at me with wide eyes, but said nothing, because for once there was nothing to be said.

"Oh, gosh," he spoke abruptly. His gaze had moved past me, so I looked back over my shoulder. A tangle of bouncing brown curls was approaching, and then Allison was at my side, hands resting on the edge of the table.

"Hello!" She piped, that annoyingly high-pitched voice like nails on a chalkboard. Simon and I both gave her a sort of half wave, never quote bringing ourselves to meet her eyes. "Have either of you seen Jack?"

At the mere mention of his name, I whirled around in my chair to face her full on. Fiery malice burned in my stare, and I thought I saw her flinch away, at least a little. "Oh, I don't know," I snapped. "Why don't you ask your cousin? He's the one sleeping with him."

I knew as soon as the words left my mouth I probably shouldn't have said anything, but by then it was too late. Allison had dissolved to little more than a mess of tears, great sobs that broke free in gasps. She was gone as quickly as she had come, and then I was left with nothing but Simon's narrowed eyes staring at me.

"Why would you do that?" He demanded. It was rare to see this side of him, fierce and assertive. I looked at the ceiling, or the floor, or anywhere but at him. Simon let out a groan edged with disgust, slid off his chair and hurried off after Allison. Ever the peace keeper. And then I was left alone again, so after a few minutes of silence I returned to my room and dug my bottle of vodka from the closet.


	10. Chapter 10

**A/N: So, wow, rereading this has made me realize why you guys all liked it so much. I've decided I have no choice but to finish this story! So yay. I hope that makes the followers as happy as it made me. I really am sorry for the abandonment. I'll do my best to finish it quickly and efficiently. Also, I'm thinking of changing my username to some variation of loving-him-was-red. Thoughts? **

For a few days, I refused to leave my dorm room. The mere thought of the real world was enough to ruin me. I was falling back to that place of darkness and depression, where the monsters could get me so much easier.

Ralph came and went, between classes and maybe even developing some kind of social life. A few times, Simon stopped by to make sure I was still alive. But my dear Roger, my best friend in all the world, he never came at all. I wasn't sure if he cared or not, and I doubted I could make him listen. So my only option was to hide, hide and hope that one day soon the coast would clear.

I spent a lot of time mulling over old memories, trying to separate the real ones from the little fantasies living in the back of my mind. Trying to remember the way my heart had leapt when Roger had yanked me against him and kissed me that very first time. Or the way Ralph had always sort of lived in my head. Or the way I had the hardest time making sense of anything anymore.

When my door swung open on Saturday night, I was expecting to see Ralph, maybe coming in from dinner or something. I pushed myself up a little in bed, clutching my blankets around my waist. Everyone had sort of been under the impression that I was terribly ill, and in a way, I guess I was. I mean, why couldn't I just get on with my life? Why were those memories, those few wasted months, consuming me in such a way?

Anyway, I was expecting to see the familiar blonde strolling in. But not Simon, and certainly not with the terror that filled his eyes so. I couldn't remember the last time I'd seen him look so scared, his pale eyes wide with all this panic. I jolted up, my own expression mirroring his. "Simon? What's the matter?" Because there was so clearly something wrong.

The younger boy was panting for breath. "It's…Roger…" He managed. "He's…I mean, he…" And then he completely lost himself to tears. My own fears spiked; throwing back the covers I pushed past him and across the hall to my best friend's room. The door was unlocked, and a moment later I had barged in.

The coppery smell hit my nostrils long before I was composed enough to take in the scene. I'm pretty sure there were already tears welling up in the corners of my blue eyes, before I even made it far enough into the room to have any idea what was happening.

When I saw him there, it was like someone had taken a sledgehammer to the very foundations of my world. It was like being back on that island, only this was worse, because this wasn't just a memory now. This was really here, right before me, and oh, god, no.

I fell to the floor hard, crawling over to where my best friend lay. My shrieks and screams filled the room, or maybe only my head. I didn't care either way. I didn't care if the whole damn school heard me.

When I reached Roger's body, I pulled him up into my lap. His forearms were covered in a thousand little cuts and marks, all gushing blood from his delicate wrists. "Roger!" I shouted into his pale face. Grabbing his black hair roughly. "Roger, wake up! Fuck, Roger, please!"

He wasn't answering, wasn't showing any signs of waking up. No matter how many times I called out his name, how much of his blood coated my own flesh. Eventually someone came in, and they were pulling me away from him, gripping me tightly by the shoulder. "Jack," they were saying, but I didn't hear, didn't want to hear. They couldn't take me from him, not when he needed me. Oh, god, this was all my fault.

"Jack," the voice said again, and only then did I realize it was Ralph who was holding me. There were a few people from the administration there too, along with a couple paramedics. I spun around and buried myself against Ralph's chest. "Shh, Jack, it's going to be okay," Ralph murmured, holding me and gently stroking my hair. They were taking Roger away now, out of the room, leaving no sign of him but his unmade bed and the bloodstains on the carpet.

"Oh, god," I screeched, when at last the shock had worn off, and the tears were breaking free. What had I done, what had I done, this was my best friend and now I was watching him being taken away.

Ralph, amidst all my muttering, grabbed me by the chin, forcing me to look into his calm green eyes. "I know what you're doing," he said sternly, "and you need to stop it right now. This is not your fault."

"Of course it is!" I spat. "He…he was mad at me. I was the reason he was upset. I was the-"

"Stop," Ralph said again, cutting me off. "Come on, I'm taking you back to our room." I had no choice but to follow him back across the hall. Simon was gone now, so it was just me and Ralph and my racing thoughts. The blonde led me over to my bed, sitting down beside me. He never stopped touching me, never broke contact with me. And I was thinking of this one time, when we first crashed on the island, when we'd sat together on the beach and watched the sun rise. And how much everything had changed, but when it came down to it, things were all pretty much the same.


	11. Chapter 11

**A/N: Why, in the four years I've been using this website, has no one ever told me I could view traffic to my stories? That would have been so helpful in seeing which ones were getting attention. Anyway, now that I know sixty or so random people have been reading this today, WITHOUT REVIEWING, SHAME ON YOU, I guess I'll try to put out another chapter. Pretty please leave me some kind of comment, just so I feel happiness and such. **

I had long since realized it was better not to know some things. Like how it felt to watch someone die before your eyes. Or how it felt to find out that everything you'd been so sure of was a complete lie. Or how it felt to wake up beside Ralph, with his arms lazily draped over me as he exhaled these shallow little breaths. For a minute, I even managed to forget about everything, about Roger and last night, because I'd never seen anything quite as peaceful as Ralph when he was sleeping.

But I couldn't forget forever. Soon I could picture it all so clearly in my head, clearly enough that I let out a little choking sound, because Roger was gone away and I didn't know where or if he was okay or anything at all. I sat up much too quickly, making my head spin and startling Ralph enough to wake him. With groggy eyes he looked up at me, this ghost of a smile tugging at his lips. "Hey."

"Shut up," I snapped, and I didn't even care about the obvious hurt in his eyes, and I didn't want to know why he was even in my bed to begin with. I needed to move, needed to find Roger, needed to know he was okay. "I have to go." Within seconds, I was up and dressed, yesterday's jeans and the first tee I could find. I was out the door, leaving him behind as I shuffled across the hall to Simon's dorm.

Knocking hard on the door, I called out to my younger friend. It didn't take him long to open the door. I could tell by hid dark circle and wide eyes he hadn't slept at all. "Well," he scowled, literally scowled at me like he couldn't even stand to be near me. "Nice to see you looking so rested."

I was not about to play these games right now, not with anyone. "Where is he? Is he okay?" My words came out rushed, frantic.

Simon only narrowed his eyes at me. "Well, if you must know I've been sitting by the phone all night waiting for a call. But I haven't gotten one. So I'm sorry but I have no idea. If you hadn't been so comfortable with Ralph all night you might know how this feels."

I was in no mood to be condescended by Simon on a power trip. "This isn't easy for me either!" I shouted. "He's my best friend. I thought maybe he was going to be more, but-"

Simon cut me off. "But then Ralph came back. And we all know you've never been able to get over Ralph. I don't know what Roger ever saw in you, Jack Merridew!" For a long while, we stood staring at each other, both panting for breath. I might have broken the silence, if not for the sudden appearance of Ralph in our dorm's doorway.

"I'm sorry," he said abruptly. I knew he'd heard the whole conversation. "I didn't mean for any of this to happen." And just like that, he was gone, a bullet darting away down the hall, disappearing round the corner.

"Shit," I groaned. This was all a total disaster. I was only one person here; I could not hold this entire world together. Not when I couldn't even hold myself together. I looked back to Simon with desperation in my eyes. "I cannot fucking handle all this, Si."

The younger boy looked at me with less than a little sympathy. "I don't know what to tell you, Jack. You didn't get it when we were kids, and you don't get it now. You cant have everything you want. Sometimes you have to choose what you need the most."


	12. Chapter 12

**A/N: As always, thanks to my lovely reviewers. You guys give me so much faith in my writing. Anyway, not much to say, so I think I'll just get right to it. I own nothing, not even the title. I'm so unoriginal. Keep the reviews coming! You're all amazing. **

I was running, running hard and fast through an endless jungle. All around me were flames and tendrils of smoke, dancing against the crystalline blue sky. Don't stop, I thought, cant stop moving or else everything was going to catch up with me. Somewhere in the distance, someone was screaming my name. Screaming for help, maybe, but I didn't know for sure. Anyway, who would ask me for help? I was always the monster.

I broke free from the tangled branches, stumbling forth upon the white sand of the beach. Panting for breath, I scanned the shores until my blue eyes fell upon the body, laying there among the waves and blood and- oh, the blood.

"Roger!" I screamed, rushing to his side, collapsing to my knees. A thousand tears broke free, tears I didn't even know I was able to cry. I was Jack Merridew, I should have been holding myself together, but this was my best friend in my lap and it was my fucking knife, my knife.

"Roger," I pleaded, just one more time. He stayed motionless, of course, and the blood that had been dripping down his wrist was already starting to dry.

_Isn't this fun? _The beast cackled. His voice was an echo in my head, an echo that stretched across the whole damn island. _You cant escape this place! Never ever. I'll always be with you, inside of you. There's nowhere to hide from me! _

"Shut up!" I shrieked into the nothingness. Clutching Roger even tighter against me. My tears were cascading down onto his face, into his matted black hair, but he just wasn't waking up. "Roger, please! Don't leave me here."

_Jack!_ The beast was shouting my name, over and over and over again. I felt his icy grip fall upon my shoulder, clenching tightly, shaking me roughly, shouting my name.

"Let me go! Stop!" I thrashed against his hold, desperately clinging to Roger's lifeless form.

"Jack! Jack, stop. It's only me! Ralph!"

With a cry, I shot up in my bed, eyelids fluttering open. Ralph was hovering over me, his hands gently resting on my shoulders. "Jack," he was murmuring softly. "Jack, calm down."

My body was convulsing with gasps for breath, shaking, fucking trembling against beneath Ralph's gaze. "It was only a dream," he told me. But he was wrong, it wasn't only a dream. I'd seen for myself the blood pouring over Roger's wrists. I'd held him, just before they'd taken him away.

"Roger-" I choked out, my voice catching in my throat.

Ralph reached over to brush a few stray pieces of my red hair away from my face. "Shh, it's okay. Roger's okay. Simon came in here earlier to tell me."

I swear, I'd never felt so many emotions all at once. Relief flooded through me like some sort of dam had broken. "He's okay?" I repeated, just to make sure I wasn't still asleep. Ralph nodded, the ghost of a smile hovering on his lips. I actually let out some sort of cry of happiness. "Oh, thank fucking god. What did Simons say? When will he be back? What-"

"Jack," Ralph cut me off. "Calm down." There was a hint of amusement in his voice, but also something a bit like pain. "He's got to spend a few days at the hospital, but then he'll be back. I, uh, explained to him what really happened that night he saw us."

I looked at Ralph like I'd never looked at him before. With respect and something bordering admiration. "Thank you," I said sincerely. Before I could stop myself, I had pulled him to me in a tight hug. "Really, you have no idea what that means to me."

Ralph offered a faint grin. It was almost more of a grimace, if only I'd have taken the time to look. "I think I do," he muttered. "I know what it's like to care about someone…the way you love Roger."

I'd never heard it said aloud before, but right then I realized that he was right. I did love Roger. Probably had always loved Roger. And the blonde boy I'd spent my entire life hating had been the one to help me figure it out. But then I caught the way his green eyes were fixated on me, and I recognized it. Because it was the way Roger had been looking at me, when he'd told me that he loved me. And it was the way I had looked at Ralph, so long ago on those abandoned beaches, when I was even sure what love meant.

"I'm sorry," I said, before I could catch myself. Ralph bit down on his lip, the slightest hint of tears welling up in his eyes.

"Don't worry about me," he whispered, even though I knew he didn't mean it. "I should have known I couldn't just come back into your life and expect us to just…" He trailed off.

I reached out to take his hand in my own. "I'm always going to care about you, Ralph. You were the first person I ever felt anything for."

The blonde gave my fingers a tight squeeze. "Really?" I nodded. "But you and Roger need each other," he added.

I shrugged. "I don't want to think about it right now," I said. And it was true. In a couple of days, Roger would be home, and I could tell him everything I wanted to, everything I so desperately needed him to know. But right now…right now it was just me and Ralph and a thousand memories that would always be between us.

"Kiss me," I blurted. Ralph's brows shot up. "Just one time. Kiss me."

And so he did.


	13. Chapter 13

**A/N: See how dedicated I am to this story? That's because of all the love I'm getting from you guys. Keep it coming! Also. If anyone would be willing to check out my story Loving Him Was Red, I could really use some opinions on it. I own nothing, of course. **

**In honor of Halloween, expect a Halloween story to be up soon! **

Long after Ralph had pulled away, the kiss still lingered on my lips. The blonde and I stared into each other's eyes, pale green to bright blue. There were all these memories and unspoken words passing between us, in this one single glance. This boy had been living in the back of my mind since I'd been twelve years old. Now he was tangible, before me.

"I've been thinking about that for a long time," Ralph admitted shyly, tearing his gaze away from mine. Our fingers were still entwined.

"Me too," I whispered back, surprising the both of us. We both broke into wide grins, this moment of happiness that we both shared. This one instant belonging to us, together. I hadn't felt this connected to him since that first day on the beach.

But soon those overwhelming shadows crept back in. "You know it cant happen again," I mumbled, and I was unable to look at him when I did. "I cant have both of you." _And I've chosen Roger_, I added silently.

Ralph shrugged, like he'd read my thoughts. "It's okay," he replied, even though, no, it really wasn't. "I think…maybe I might transfer from St. Nathaniel's."

My mouth literally fell open with shock. He had to be kidding. He'd just gotten here, just found me again; he couldn't leave again like none of it had mattered. Because Ralph was so much a part of myself. "I just got you back," I said quietly.

"Yes, and you haven't even tried to kill me yet," he joked. "This was not the Jack Merridew I'd been expecting."

My own smile was fleeting. I squeezed his hand gently in my own. "You cant just disappear," I said, hating the whining, the desperation in my tone. "I need you now more than ever." It was true. I needed his strength to draw upon when I was close to running out of my own.

"You've got Roger and Simon," he told me. "You don't need me, Jack. We're only going to stop each other from getting on with our lives."

I refused to listen to what he was saying. I pushed away from him, jumping up to my feet, off the bed. I needed to be away from him, far away. "You know I was here!" I shouted, rage and hurt driving me. "How dare you just show up and make me question everything, and then leave like it's nothing?" Anger was coursing through me now, though Ralph managed to stay calm as ever.

"Jack, please-" he tried to reason, but I just wasn't hearing it.

"I should have killed you when I had the chance," I hissed. "Just, just leave me alone. For once in my fucking life let me be happy!"

"I haven't done anything you didn't ask me to!" Ralph broke free of his composed demeanor. He stood as well, hands clenched into fists at his sides. "You cant just lead me on, telling me you need me and fucking _kissing_ me, and then blame me for all of it! Just like you blamed me for Piggy, and the littluns! Start taking responsibility for your actions, Jack Merridew."

I couldn't stand it anymore. I was breaking down all over again, wondering just how many times I could break till I'd completely shatter beyond repair. My blood was boiling in my veins, heart racing, pounding. With a growl, I lunged at him, leaping right over the bed and crashing into his body. Ralph cried out as we crashed to the floor, working hard to push me off of him. For a moment, I was back on the island, wrestling on the sand with hm. Reaching for my spear to deliver the final blow, the blood from his chest wound slicking my own skin.

I blinked hard to bring myself back. It was just enough to lose control; Ralph flipped me over onto my back, pinning me down at the shoulders. "You're a monster, Jack," he said through gritted teeth. "You destroy everything you touch."

I writhed under his hold, but to no avail, thinking for but a moment that we would always return to this, no matter how intimate we could be. Our relationship was bred on loathing. "I hate you," I growled at him. "I wish you would have been the one to slit your fucking wrists."

In a second, maybe less, all the fight faded from his eyes. Ralph leaned back, loosening his grip on me. There was nothing but silence, echoing around us, and this unbearable pain in his face. Pain that I'd caused.

"I tried," he whispered. "I tried so many times."

Wriggling out from underneath him, I sat up, leaning back on my hands. "Ralph, I-"

"Don't tell me you're sorry," he snapped. "I tried so hard to die, to make you get out of my head. But you wouldn't. So I thought maybe if I found you, things would be okay. Or I could at least get closure. But I wish I'd never come here looking for answers, because they fucking suck. I was better off not knowing what you'd become."

Ralph stumbled to his feet and started towards the door. I myself was frozen, motionless on the ground. The adrenaline was wearing off and I was starting to feel the budding bruises over my skin. In my mind there were all these blurring images, Ralph and Roger, so similar yet so opposite. "Ralph, wait!" I called out to him, and I couldn't believe he actually paused.

"What, Jack?" There was nothing but defeat left in his voice.

"I'm…sorry," I choked out, "that you didn't get what you were looking for."

Ralph glanced back at me over his shoulder. "I stopped expecting anything from you a long time ago."


	14. Chapter 14

**A/N: Well, okay, here it is. The final chapter of Break Till I Shatter. I just want to thank everyone who has been following this story. You guys have made me so happy and given me so much faith in my writing. I hope you all will be around for my future fanfics. In short, I love you guys! Insert my usual disclaimer here, and all that jazz. **

_Four Months Later. _

The summer air was just perfect, a cool breeze winding through the streets of London, teasing my red locks of hair. There was a smile I couldn't seem to shake tugging at the corners of my lips, but it may have just been because it was finally, finally summer. And after the year of turmoil I'd had to endure, I was thrilled to be free of St. Nathaniel's, at least for a few months.

From where he was walking beside me, Roger shot me a grin. "What's got you so smiley?" He teased, reaching out to take my hand. However cliché it may have been, it truly did feel like we were made for each other.

"You," I murmured. Roger rolled his eyes, giving me a playful shove. After he'd returned from the hospital a few months back, I'd spared no time telling him exactly how I felt. I realized that life was too short, too precious, and I wasn't going to waste any time. I wanted, _needed_ Roger, and that was all there was to it. He'd been at my side for as long as I could remember, and I wasn't planning on giving that up, not ever.

But in choosing this path, I had given up something else entirely. A tremor of sorrow moved through me as I thought of that night. It all seemed so long ago now, watching Ralph leave my room, the slamming of the door so loud it shattered my heart. Most of the time I managed to push thoughts like that away. But sometimes…sometimes they crept back in, and it was really fucking hard.

"Everything okay?" Roger asked softly, so much concern in the words. I adverted my gaze to the ground, unable to foster a smile or even a lie that, yes, everything was just fine. The black-haired boy sighed; I had a feeling he knew exactly what I was remembering. What I could never seem to forget.

"I'm sorry," I muttered. Roger only shrugged, gripping my hand a little tighter.

"It's alright," he replied. Even though it really wasn't. "I don't expect you to ever forget about him. and you couldn't change the way I feel about you if you tried."

We pressed on in silence then, reveling in the way the sun shone off the streets. I kept my gaze mostly fixed ahead of me, trying to focus on the here and now for once, instead of all that had passed. Across the road, a man in a striped green tee was exiting a coffee shop. The rays from above caught his golden hair just so, in a way that made it hard to breathe.

He looked up just in time to lock gazes with me, vibrant blue to pale green. And he smiled, and I smiled. And in that moment, I knew, more than I had ever known anything before, that everything was going to be okay.

THE END


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